


The Colours of Me, the Colours of You, the Colours of Us

by bakagou



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Platonic Soulmates, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, more details about the soulmate au in notes, trust me it's good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 17:30:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19114399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bakagou/pseuds/bakagou
Summary: “I suppose you wouldn’t know. What with your amnesia and all”, Chrom muses aloud, to which Frederick sneers and shoots Robin a glare.“They appear when you…. form an connection strong enough to- to make one appear? Sorry, I don’t really know how to explain it”, Lissa says, rubbing the back of her neck.“They represent the most meaningful relationships in your life, your soulmates. Family, friends, lovers, each one can leave a unique soulmark”, Frederick clarifies, eyes seeing straight through Robin. “If their bond is genuine and strong enough, that is”, he adds, and Robin feels something cold crawl through his lungs and grip onto his heart.Chrom hums. “I wonder what soulmarks you have, Robin. They could help you remember who you were.”In which Robin wakes up alone in a field he doesn't recognize, and instantly falls for the man covered in soulmarks and love.





	The Colours of Me, the Colours of You, the Colours of Us

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Rose Gold](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13416702) by [amairylle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amairylle/pseuds/amairylle). 



> listen idc if you've never watched an episode of haikyuu in your LIFE. if you haven't read Rose Gold you haven't lived!! Legit the best soulmate au in my life, your fave could NEVER.  
> 
> 
> Also I think i explain this well enough in the fic itself, but basically this soulmate au is like, self-made soulmates, where soulmarsk fo varying colour appear when you become close enough to someone i.e. a parent, a friend, a significant other, etc. Soulmarks can fade if the people have a falling out, and they're always two-sided (so like, there's no unrequited soulmates in this au).  
> 
> 
> Anyway, I never really latch onto love ar first sight or soulmates or whatever, because I always feel like relationships are what you make of them yourself, and I've always enjoyed stories in which people defy fate and destiny to carve their own path much more than those chosen one/true love types. But then I look at Chrobin and I'm like "wrow... Soulmates.." so this is a compromise of sorts. Anyway enjoy.

Chrom’s hand is a loud, loud orange, surrounded by a shimmering yellow. It snakes up the inside of his wrist, making the blue and purple of his veins stand out. The yellow comes to an abrupt end when it’s cut off by a shapeless fuchsia blob.

It’s gorgeous, to Robin. It looks like is been painted on with careful brushstrokes, hours spent obsessing over each detail, all glittering in the sun.

When Chrom takes Robin’s hand in his, Robin can’t help but wonder (and foolishly, foolishly hope) if some of it will rub off on him.

It’s when he’s standing that Robin realises Chrom’s arm is _covered_ in miniature masterpieces. Swirls of reds and blues and greens jump out at him, and Robin’s speechless for a moment.

It’s enthralling, to say the least.

Fredrick, with his cold and discerning gaze, doesn’t seem to have the same colours as Chrom. Though Robin assumes his heavy armour covers them. Lissa’s hand is a bright blue, stretching out to meet her fingertips, and when she turns around Robin sees a soft lilac on her back.

Robin has no idea what they mean, but each colour, each painting, catches his attention in a way that feels alien to him.

* * *

 Chrom tells him they’re soulmarks, on the way back from Southtown.

“I suppose you wouldn’t know. What with your amnesia and all”, Chrom muses aloud, to which Frederick sneers and shoots Robin a glare.

“They appear when you…. form an connection strong enough to- to make one appear? Sorry, I don’t really know how to explain it”, Lissa says, rubbing the back of her neck.

“They represent the most meaningful relationships in your life, your soulmates. Family, friends, lovers, each one can leave a unique soulmark”, Frederick clarifies, eyes seeing straight through Robin. “If their bond is genuine and strong enough, that is”, he adds, and Robin feels something cold crawl through his lungs and grip onto his heart.

Chrom hums. “I wonder what soulmarks you have, Robin. They could help you remember who you were.”

Robin wonders too as the cold feeling freezes his heart.

* * *

 Both Sully and Virion have soulmarks too, with Virion’s creeping up as far as his cheek. They don’t catch Robin’s attention in quite the same way Chrom’s do, however.

Chrom’s soulmarks remain almost untouchable to Robin, holy in a way Robin can’t quite articulate.

In the end, he’s glad none of them rubbed off on him, he would have probably ruined the colours.

* * *

 Robin thinks Chrom must be something of a fabled hero, to have so many soulmates. The marks litter any exposed skin and draw your eyes towards him. Each one leads Robin to thinking about who gave Chrom each one, what kind of mark he left on them, and what they mean to each other.

It makes Robin think of the possibility of him giving Chrom a similar mark, but his stomach twists at the idea.

Chrom may not even notice. After all, one small daisy means nothing in a field of spectacular wildflowers.

* * *

 The revelation that Chrom is, in fact, the prince of Ylisse makes it simultaneously easier and harder to understand how he has so many soulmates.

As prince, his people love and adore him. Revere him even. He’s their protector and their hero- it’s impossible for him to mean nothing to them. Though almost none of them would know him personally, or on such a level where a soulmark would form.

Robin looks around the bustling streets and later, the castle, and sees everyone else has soulmarks too. Some have almost has many as Chrom, dazzling and blinding in some cases. Others have fewer, but they still draw Robin’s eyes.

“It’s a nice sentiment, I suppose. That everyone has at least one person who cares about them so deeply”, Robin says to Chrom. They’ve given him a room to stay in tonight, and after hours of talking about what happened on the way back from Southtown and what it could mean for Ylisse, Plegia, and the tension between both countries, Robin’s about ready to collapse into bed. But there’s something he has to do first, as soon a Chrom leaves.

Chrom smiles. “It is, isn’t it? Comforting to think that you only have to look at your arm or hand or in the mirror to be reminded that you’re not alone, that they’re people out there that love you.”

Chrom excuses himself then, and Robin does what he’s been itching to do since Chrom first said the word soulmark.

Robin strips himself down, dread building for what he may find, but his hands continue their work. Once he’s standing in front of the mirror in just his smallclothes, he lets out a dry, hoarse laugh. The cold feeling wrapping around his heart is back with a vengeance.

Robin is perfectly blank, empty of soulmarks, empty of love.

* * *

 Robin creates endless theories as to why. Maybe there’s something wrong with his body, that won’t let it create soulmarks. Maybe due to his amnesia they all faded away, no memories to anchor down those oh so important bonds. He could have been cursed. Maybe the strange mark on his hand has something to do with it. Do soulmarks fade away when someone dies? It’s morbid and grim, but Robin viciously thinks he’d rather dead loved ones than none at all.

Maybe he just never deserved love.

Robin falls into a fitful sleep that night, thinking about what Chrom would say.

* * *

 Meeting the Shepherds was interesting, to say the least. Robin spends the majority of the time trying to connect each one with one of Chrom’s soulmarks, and trying to connect Chrom with one of theirs’.

Vaike has just as many as Chrom, the strongest being a deep moss green right on his stomach.

Robin could see a blood red soulmark creep out from one of Sumia’s boots, rising up like flames.

Maribelle keeps herself covered, pants tucked into sturdy boots and a long-sleeved shirt paired with gloves, much like Robin. He begins to let a small spark of hope bloom until he sees a warm yellow on the back of her neck.

Robin shoves his hands into his coat pockets and tries not to hunch his shoulders. He can’t look defensive without reason, especially when everyone’s being so accepting and friendly. It’s almost unbearable how _warm_ they all are.

And Robin wants nothing more than to reach out and be a part of it, but there’s almost a physical barrier between them. The image of himself, colourless and blank in front of the mirror comes to mind, and it makes it impossible to simply bask in the warmth and genuine friendship they’re already offering.

Robin doesn’t know anything about himself, but he does know you shouldn’t take things you don’t deserve.

* * *

 Robin can’t help but marvel at Chrom’s soulmarks. He’s only ever seen the ones on his arm but Robin knows there has to be more.

Robin’s favourite is still the orange surrounded by yellow. It looks so delicate, so refined that Robin’s still scared to touch it for fear of ruining it. There’s a muddy green that reminds Robin of the lush forests of Ylisse on Chrom’s bicep, and a wine red wrapping itself around his forearm to the underside of his bicep.

The Exalted Brand stands out stark against them all, untouched and untainted by the frivolities of soulmates.

* * *

 Regna Ferox is unbearably cold, and Chrom laughs at how Robin shivers and his teeth chatter even when they’re inside. Robin gladly takes the opportunity to bundle up as much as possible.

Their fight against Marth only adds to the mound of questions Robin has about him. Robin hates how he doesn’t even know the basics- no idea as to what his goals and ambitions are, no idea what his past was like, and gods above he doesn’t even know what the damned man looks like under that mask.

Being in the dark makes Robin feel vulnerable, easier to manipulate and for the rug to be pulled out from under him. The mark on his hand burns with unanswered questions too. He’s sick of it all.

That’s how he ends up in the Ferox library at an absolutely unholy hour, pouring over text after text and scroll after scroll about soulmates, trying to parse through all the conflicting theories and evidence.

From what he can find, those without soulmates are shunned at best, and seen as heretics at worst.

Robin doesn’t know how long he’ll stay with the Shepherds. He does know, however, that it can’t be for long. They’ll eventually get suspicious as to why they never received any soulmarks from him, they’ll begin to see him as cold and distant. Or worse still, they’ll find out his secret.

No matter how much Robin wants to stay, wants live in the comfortable little world Chrom has helped build for him in such a short amount of time, reality will bring it all crashing down eventually.

* * *

 Robin’s mind keeps circling back to that fight against Marth.

The trust Chrom placed in him during that battle, during _each_ battle, simply handing over his fate and the fate of his closest friends, always took him off guard.

_It’s a test, he’s waiting for you to slip up, he must be._

Fighting side by side with Chrom blows everything else out of the water, however. They balance each other well, and Robin can’t help but feel at ease when he feels Chrom’s warmth at his side. Like whenever he places and hand on Robin’s back or shoulder, or leans into him around the campfire. It’s exhilarating.

Robin knows he’s nothing but a fool when he finds himself entertaining thoughts on what Chrom’s soulmark would look like. He can’t find it in himself to care this time around though.

* * *

 Marth continues to be an enigma in Robin’s life. A mystery he can’t solve. She saves Chrom’s life and protects Her Grace, only to disappear again. No answers as to why she hid her gender, no reason for running away again. Robin feels like he’s going mad.

He notices, this time around, how she dresses in just as many layers as Robin. He supposes that soulmarks are the fastest way to identify someone.

He doesn’t dare to hope he’s not the only one again.

* * *

 “I wonder what colour your soulmark will be.”

Robin stiffens and whips his head around to look at Maribelle. His grip on his ale tightens.

They’re on the outskirts of the camp, staring up at the stars and drinking too much ale to be safe. Especially in Maribelle’s case. Robin doesn’t know if he can ask why.

Maribelle wheezes at his expression. “Oh come on! You’re gonna start giving them to everyone eventually. I hope it’s a nice colour, a purple maybe.”

The only shade of purple that comes to mind is that of an aching bruise. Fitting.

“But for all I know you could give a yellow or a green mark either! It’s so hard to predict colours”, Maribelle continues, as she chugs the rest of her ale. She flops down into the grass.

“Gaius’ was pink. A big and bright _pink._ Can you believe it?”

Robin chokes on his ale. Gaius had been traveling with them for about a week, and while it was normal for children and teenagers to become soulmates in such a short amount of time, the same can’t be said for adults.

“I don’t think I want to know what colour mine was.”

Robin begins to think that soulmates are a bigger burden that they’re worth, if they can reduce Maribelle to this.

_Liar,_ a voice rings out in his head. _You’d swap places with her in a heartbeat._

* * *

 From Robin’s research, it seems soulmates come and go.

It’s a tad ironic, that people you’re supposedly deeply connected to can become nothing more than a distant memory, even the most vibrant of soulmarks fading away with time.

But then again, fate is ever changing and as unpredictable as the gods themselves.

* * *

 “Ah, I was wondering where you had gone to.”

Robin turns away from the pile of weapons in front of him to face Chrom. A sweet, almost dopey if Robin wants to be so brash, smile graces Chrom’s face and Robin returns it with a grin of his own.

“What, the Shepherds are already tearing each other apart without me there? Honestly Milord how did you manage without me at all?”

Chrom chuckles and shakes his head. “I don’t think we did manage without you, not really. Also for the last time please stop calling me that, we’re friends Robin.”

Robin tilts his head to the side and bats his eyes. “Oh but that would just be the height of rudeness, Prince Chrom. I couldn’t possible refer to His Lordship without addressing him appropriately. Why, what would Frederick say if he heard me refer to His Highness with-“

“Okay okay! You’ve had your fun now please spare me my dignity”, Chrom exclaims, walking toward Robin in an attempt to placate him. He starts pulling out the weapons above their heads, those a tad too high for Robin to reach safely.

Robin laughs. “Hardly my fault you’re so easy to tease.”

“You’re just as bad as Lissa sometimes”, Chrom sighs out, reaching up over Robin’s head. Robin crouches back against the wall, only to belatedly realise that he’s boxed in.

“Just because the opportunity’s there doesn’t mean you have to avail of it each and every ti-“

Chrom cuts himself off and grabs Robin by the shoulders, pulling him out of the way as a smattering of shields come clattering down where they were just standing.

It just so happens that in doing so, Chrom drags Robin closer to him, leaving only the smallest bit of space between them.

Robin and Chrom eyes’ meet in the resulting silence, only for Robin to realise just how close they are and how tightly Chrom’s holding onto him. If he’s being honest, he wouldn’t mind staying this way for a while more.

Robin swallows around a lump in his throat as he looks away.

“Guess I deserve such a fright for all the teasing.”

A chuckle. “Guess so.”

Robin chances a glance in Chrom’s direction and he’s taken aback by the solemn and intense expression on Chrom’s face, eyes shining and thoughtful. He’s caught in Chrom’s gaze again as the the moment stretches into eternity.

It’s all too much too quickly, and before he realizes what he’s doing, Robin sputters and starts cackling, shoulders shaking. Chrom blinks and starts sniggering alongside him, grip on his shoulders loosened but still present.

“Come on, we should clean this up and get on with the check”, Robin says as he pulls away from Chrom’s grasp. He feels a foreign sense of loss without it.

“Right as always, Tactician.”

They work in silence from then on out, a silent agreement to not bring this up again. Robin’s heart aches.

* * *

 “Robin!”

The sheer terror in Chrom’s voice doesn’t register with Robin for a moment. Neither do the swears spilling out of Frederick’s mouth, or the shriek from Lissa.

Getting skewered by a sword will do that to you.  

The mercenary yanks the sword out of Robin’s stomach, leaving robin unbalance and stumbling.

Next thing he knows, the mercenary slashes through him, leaving him a crumpled, bleeding pile on the ground.

_Oh no, wait,_ Robin thinks as he hears Cordelia cut the mercenary down and Chrom rushing to his side.

_This can’t happen, they’re going to find out._

Robin can see that Chrom’s screaming his name, but he can’t hear it, and the next moment he’s engulfed in darkness.

* * *

 Robin wakes up to birds chirping somewhere outside, the morning sun creeping in through the gap in the medical tent flaps.

He looks down at Chrom, who’s stretch out halfway across the cot.

Robin smiles at him, warmth bubbling in his chest. His eyes flicker then, and he sees Maribelle staring at him, jaw clenched and skin a ghastly shade of white.

Robin’s stomach twists. He wishes he had died on that battlefield.

Maribelle clears her throat. “So you don’t-”

“No. I don’t. And I don’t know why.”

Maribelle nods, and fiddles with her hands for a moment.

“I would like to apologize for my comments from a few nights ago. Had I known of your- _condition,_ I would not have spoken so flippantly about soulmates.”

Robin shakes his head and lets out a dry wheeze. “Maribelle, if I was hurt every time someone mentioned soulmarks and soulmates, I don’t think I’d be able to get out of bed in the morning.”

Maribelle’s lips quirk upwards for a moment, before she’s striding over to his cot and fiddling with his bandages.

“Thank you, for saving me.” With her healing skills, Maribelle could just about revive the dead, it seems.

Maribelle’s eyes widen, and she smiles then.

“It was the least I could do, for such a good friend.”

* * *

 Everyone’s walking on eggshells around him, and Robin doesn’t know who knows and who’s just following everyone else’s lead.

Chrom seems to know, and is handling it with as little grace as Robin expected. He even tried to cover his arm, which while sweet, made everyone extremely uncomfortable.

Instead of ignoring it all, Robin takes to asking questions about soulmarks he never dared ask before.

“What do they feel like?”

Chrom looks up from the map and his gaze softens when it meets Robin’s. They’re cleaning up after a late night tactics meeting, and Robin lets his curiosity get the better of him.

“Well”, Chrom starts, rolling the map up and putting it away. “When they first come about, a soulmark seems to just explode with warmth, like all the love that person has for you is being concentrated into forming the mark. When that person is worried or distressed, it can itch, depending on how close you are with someone. They can change too, the colours getting deeper or the mark getting bigger.”

Robin hums, feeling envy creep into the pit of his stomach. He wants to ridicule himself, he’s the one who asked.

“Robin”, Chrom says, and suddenly he’s right beside Robin and placing his hand on his shoulder. His gaze isn’t filled with pity, just concern.

Robin still hates it.

“It’s okay, to wish you had soulmates, and there’s nothing saying you never will. No matter what though, just know I’m here for you.”

Before he can parse through the meaning behind Chrom’s words, he’s being pulled into an embrace, and Chrom wraps his arms around Robin’s shoulders and rests his chin in Robin’s hair.

And Robin, despite himself, despite how he’ll loathe himself in the morning for it, allows a sob to escape his throat, followed by another, and another, and another.

Chrom just holds him tighter, and Robin feels as though he’s earned this small comfort.

* * *

 Robin’s never liked letting people in, letting people get close to him. From the moment Chrom pulled him to his feet in that field, Robin’s been on guard, building up a wall around his emotions so that no one could use them against him. Even when he knew not a _single_ Shepherd would hurt him like that, he still kept building.

Maybe he’s the reason there’s a line, a barrier between them. Maybe he’s his own worst enemy.

Robin wants to be on his own side for a change, just this once.

* * *

 Emmeryn’s dead and it’s all Robin’s fault. He didn’t see an obvious trap for what it was, and now Ylisse is without it’s Exalt and Chrom and Lissa without their sister.

There’s no time to pity himself though, he needs to focus and get everyone to safety. Which is much easier said than done, as Chrom mows throws the enemy soldiers without reason or control, grief clouding his actions.

Robin pulls them all through in the end, no other lives lost, no other casualties. When the reach Ferox, all Robin wants to do is find somewhere to sleep, but Frederick soon corners him.

“I think it would be wise for you to see how Lord Chrom is doing.”

Robin doesn’t need anymore prompting.

“Chrom?” he calls out, knocking on the door. He opens the door when he hears Chrom call his name, and is met with Chrom’s slumped posture, red-rimmed eyes, and shaking shoulders.

Robin silently makes his way over to Chrom and sits beside him on the bed. Chrom accepts whatever comfort he can get, and leans his head on Robin’s shoulder. They stay like that for longer than Robin can keep track of.

“She’s gone”, Chrom says eventually, his voice hoarse and raw.

“Not entirely, you still have her soulmark, don’t you.” Soulmarks don’t necessarily fade with death. If their bond is strong enough, it will stay just as vibrant as ever. Chrom told him as much on one occasion, when he asked about the soulmark on his hand.

_“It was from my mother, actually.”_

_“Your mother? I always assumed it was from Lissa.”_

_A chuckle. “Lissa’s is brown. Looks like the trunk and branches of a tree. She hates it.”_

Chrom huffs out a small sigh, but Robin can almost hear the smile in his voice when he says, “Guess I do.”

Robin lifts his hand, hesitates for a moment, before intertwining it with one of Chrom’s. Chrom squeezes it tight.

“I- I don’t-”, Chrom starts, before choking on his own tears and taking in a deep, shuddering breath.

“I don’t know what to do now.”

Robin hums. “For now, we plan. Gangrel must be stopped and Ylisse needs us. And in doing both those things, we’ll bring justice to Emmeryn’s death.” _I’ll do anything I can, anything you need._

Chrom nods against his shoulder, but abruptly breaks into broken sobs. Robin pulls his hand away from Chrom’s, only to wrap him in an embrace. It’s the least Robin could do, and it quite honestly doesn’t bother him to do so.

Eventually, Chrom drifts off to sleep, and Robin feels something blooming just above his heart as sleep takes him too.

* * *

 Waking up beside Chrom allows Robin to feel a myriad of conflicted and complex emotions. The most prominent being pure shame, as he feels himself heat up and flush red. He should wriggle out of the place he’s found in Chrom’s arms, and tip-toe out of the room. It’s a waste of time- he should be planning for their confrontation with Gangrel, he can;t fail again. They’re both still fully clothed and on top of the covers, and Robin’s starting to realise how uncomfortable that is. All the more reason to leave.

Robin’s about to do just that when Chrom grumbles in his sleep, and pulls Robin closer to him. Robin freezes.

If he can admit it to himself, alone with just his thoughts, he can say that he finds a certain solace he’d been missing in Chrom’s arms. Logically, Robin knows that they’re vulnerable like this, and yet he’s never felt more safe.

Robin closes his eyes and lets out a soft sigh, burrowing into the pillows.

It wouldn’t hurt to indulge himself just this once. Plus, Chrom needs this just as much as he does.

* * *

 The Shepherd’s stand against Gangrel leaves Robin breathless. He’s spent the last few weeks pouring over map after map, report after report alongside Chrom and the Khans, and yet he still feels unprepared. He knows that they’ve planned for almost every possible outcome and eventuality, and yet Robin’s still on edge, almost shaking with nerves.

He’s never felt such complete relief and elation at the same time when Chrom cuts Gangrel down, the Levvin Sword falling with a soft thud into the desert sand.

Chrom turns around and gazes at Robin. The entire battlefield falls silent. The remaining Plegian forces freeze, before dropping their weapons.

The Shepherds erupt into cheers and screams of joy. Chrom rushes towards Robin and sweeps him off his feet, spinning him around with a broad grin on his face. It’s the happiest Robin’s seen him since Emmeryn died.

Robin laughs along with Chrom, letting himself be spun around until they’re both dizzy. He feels his heart thumping against his ribcage with the adrenalin.

Chrom lets him down, but keeps an arm wrapped around his shoulder. A firm anchor, especially when Lissa barrels into him for a hug.

That night, they celebrate and dance and drink for so long Robin can’t remember doing anything else. Chrom never leaves Robin side, and Robin finds no reason he shouldn’t stay by Chrom’s.

By the time Chrom leads him to his tent, most of the army’s passed out. Chrom’s still chuckling from a joke Robin told an hour ago.

“What’m I gonna do now?” Robin asks once he’s fallen into the cot. Chrom tilts his head in reply. He looks absolutely adorable like that in Robin’s opinion- eyes wide and bright and so gorgeously blue and his face is flushed from how much wine he’s drank tonight. His soulmarks seems to dance in the moonlight.

“Y’don’ need a tactician anymore. Got nothin’ ta offer now.”

Chrom blinks at him for a moment, before erupting into laughter.

“Might not need a tactician, but I still need you.”

Robin is quite glad that he’s already flushed from drinking. He feels his chest tighten and heart clench at those words. What he did to deserve such praise, he’ll never know.

Maybe he doesn’t need to.

Chrom wishes him goodnight and Robin looks towards the future filled with nothing but hope.

* * *

 The sliver of sunlight creeping through the tent flaps is already too much for Robin to handle. He lets out a strangled, inhuman groan as his head pulses. He’s never going to drink again.

He pushes himself up into a sitting position and sighs. He doesn’t know what time it is but judging from the sun, dawn’s just melting into early morning. No one else will be up at this point, except maybe Frederick. That doesn’t mean he can’t get started with his own day, though. They do have to keep moving toward Ylisstol after all.

He stretches, rolling his shoulders and puffing out his chest in the process.

It’s then when he sees it, just out of the corner of his eye.

He freezes, and looks down at his chest, right where he can feel his heart thumping and thrashing, so strong that Robin thinks it might break out of his rib cage.

A deep, royal blue spirals out from just above his heart, weaving it’s way like water across his chest.

Robin’s breath gets caught in his throat, and the whole world stills for a moment. With shaking hands, he runs his fingers over it, as if to prove it’s real, it’s permanent, it’s a part of him. He knows that blue so well, could describe in a million different ways with a million different words. It’s the blue of the Ylisse Royal House, but Robin’s only ever thought of it fitting one person perfectly.

He curses himself for not having any mirror with him. He can’t get a better look at the mark without one, and there’s little else he wants to do right now other than commit every detail of it to memory.

He moves to get dressed, body moving on its own accord. His mind races as he shimmies into his pants, wondering how the hell to deal with it.

He can’t just ignore it, Chrom will approach him the moment he finds the soulmark Robin gave him, however long that takes.

Robin’s movements come to a halt and he clutches the shirt in his hands.

He gave Chrom a soulmark.

Robin’s breath stutters as he processes it. He could just about cry.

“Robin?”

Robin jumps at the sound of his name, and whips his head around to face him head on.

Chrom stands at the tent’s entrance, and Robin’s left speechless.

A deep, dark purple fills in the gaps between Chrom’s soulmarks, covering every bit of exposed skin on his arm. The purple looks almost liquid, like the ink Robin’s so accustomed to using while writing out battle tactics.

Robin pulls his gaze away from Chrom’s arm long enough to see that Chrom’s staring right at his chest.

“I-“, Robin starts, but he’s at a loss for words, always seems to be around Chrom.

Chrom doesn’t say anything either, and instead crosses the tent to wipe away Robin’s tears and place a delicate kiss on his lips.

Robin never thought being a mere daisy would make him this happy.

* * *

 Chrom’s smile is as warm and wide as it’s ever been, as he keeps his arm wound tightly around Robin’s shoulders.

When they eventually emerge from Robin’s tent, a few of the Shepherds are already up and trotting around then campsite. Maribelle, who still looks half asleep as she sits slumped by the fire, is the first to see them.

At first, she gives them a cursory nod, no doubt to exhausted for anything more. She then looks back to the fire, only for her shoulders to stiffen, as she inches to face back towards Robin and Chrom. She catches sight of Chrom’s arm, and her eyes snap open as wide as they can go, head darting between robin and chrom with an aghast expression.

Robin looks up at Chrom and they share a look right as Maribelle cries out and barrels straight into Robin’s chest.

Robin returns the embrace just as Frederick rounds the corner and drops the pots in his hand.

* * *

 Robin’s sitting by the campfire later than night when he thinks how nice it’d be to lean against Chrom’s chest and let the idle chatter wash over him.

It’s not the first time he’s had this thought, but it is the first time he can act on it.

So when he rests his head against Chrom’s shoulder, and Chrom wraps a gentle arm around his waist to pull him in to his side, he feels his heart soar.

* * *

 It seems like Chrom opened a floodgate to Robin, as soulmarks keep popping up left and right on his body.

Maribelle’s is a soft, pastel pink on his left shoulder. It looks softer than clouds and fluffier than sheep’s wool. Maribelle, in return, takes to admiring the gold on her collarbones.

Sumia’s is a grey-brown, in the vague shape do a flower on the back of his right knee, and Sumia hugs him and cries when she finds a purple circling her ankle.

Lissa runs into his study one day, showing off the copper on her waist with her voice drenched in pride. She storms our again in a huff when Robin reveals a murky yellow on his shin.

Robin laughs for days and days when a dazzling gold appears on Frederick’s neck, rising up to his cheekbone. To say Frederick’s not amused is an understatement, but Robin quite likes the rich silver on his thigh.

After that, it’s hard for Robin to keep track.

* * *

 Chrom kisses Robin like it’s the last time, and he eases Robin back onto their bed.

Robin comes up for air as Chrom pulls his shirt off, and Robin expects Chrom to get right back to kissing him blue. But Chrom doesn’t lean in for another kiss, and instead runs his hand over Robin’s chest with such reverence it make Robin choke on his own insecurities.

“Is it me or has it gotten bigger?” Chrom traces the route the blue takes across Robin’s chest, his finger just the ghost of a feeling atop Robin.

“Maybe, I wouldn’t be surprised”, Robin hums, as he reaches out to rub a hand along Chrom’s arm.

“I didn’t think I’d ever get love like this.” _Or deserve it._

Chrom smiles, something Robin doesn’t recognize in his gaze. He grasps Robin’s hand and places a soft kiss on his knuckles.

“Well you deserve every bit of it, my love.”

Robin kisses Chrom until he can’t tell what way is up or down.

* * *

 Robin, with shaking, stuttering arms, holds his daughter close.

His daughter, Chrom’s princess, their little girl.

Lucina has Naga’s Brand in her left eye, Grima’s in her right, a silver soulmark on one leg, and a shining gold on the other.

The lavender on Robin’s waist makes him tear up at the mere sight of it.

He’s never felt more whole.

* * *

 Lucina, that is, the one standing in front of him, on the brink of adulthood, comes as a shock.

Robin sticks close to her that night, as she glances around the campfire at the ghosts of her past.

It’s funny to think that Robin’s one of them.

“Papa?”

Robin turns to Lucina with a smile on his face. Robin feels a strange sense of pride at the word. He can’t wait until his own time’s Lucina can say it herself.

“I hope you don’t mind- mind me asking this but”, Lucina takes a deep breathe and locks eyes with Robin. “Do you have a soulmark on, on your waist? A small lavender one?”

“I do, yes. And I take it you have a gold one on that leg”, Robin nudges the leg closest to him with his own, knees tapping together.

Lucina smiles, bitterness lacing it.

“I thought so, I guess I just hoped- well I don’t actually know what I was hoping for.”

Robin studies his daughter for a minute, because that’s what she is, his daughter. Chrom’s princess. Their little girl. Just all grown up.

She’s staring straight at the fire, eyes resolute and face stony, so much like Chrom when he’s serious. Robin can see the sharp gears turning and ticking on in her head, trying to organize her thoughts and feelings, to give them each a place in her mind so she can put them aside.

Over the years, Robin’s gotten better at reading people, at telling them what they want to hear, saying just the right thing so they do just the thing Robin wants.

But this is Lucina, his child. He cannot bring himself to placate her with false words and promises. Robin is a fledgling of a father, but even he knows it isn’t right, it isn’t fair. So he wrecks his brain for something else to say, for something that he believes, for him to suddenly understand the truth of this situation. Because that’s what Lucina deserves, the truth and nothing but.

He places a hand over Lucina‘s. She looks up and meets his eyes.

“I think”, he begins, thoughts finally falling into place. “That you should still cherish those soulmarks. They’re proof of your bond with the Robin and Chrom of your world. As with any other soulmates you had in your past. But that doesn’t- it _shouldn’t_ \- stop you from forming new bonds, finding new soulmates.”

Lucina swallows and takes another deep breathe. A tactic to ward of tears, Robin’s done the very same before.

Robin pulls her into a hug, hoping she knows how much she’s loved.

* * *

 

Robin feels close to fainting at the arrival of Morgan. A crooked grin, wild blue hair, and matching brands on her hands only mean trouble for the rest of the Shepherds.

Robin’s overjoyed at the sight of soulmarks littering her. Her lack of memories haven’t robbed her of her soulmates.

A familiar cold feeling makes its way through Robin’s chest, finding it’s place on his heart and latching on. That means his didn’t either.

Robin can’t help but wonder and wonder and wonder why he was so unlovable.

* * *

 Robin stares down at the map laid out in front of him when feels the familiar sensation of Chrom’s arms wrapping around his front, pulling him towards a comforting chest and a heart that bleeds love.

“So, that’s three kids now? At least we know there’s no fear of Ylisse running out of potential Exalts.”

Robin snorts and turns his head to plant a kiss on Chrom’s jaw. “Even more so if you count Owain.”

“Oh I could never leave out Owain. His heart would shatter into a million pieces.”

Robin smiles and basks in the silence of the moment.

“You know”, he says, fully leaning back into Chrom’s embrace. “I wouldn’t mind having another, when this Valm business is all behind us.”

Chrom stares down at him, before his eyes widen and shine with sheer _love._

“I’d like that too, I think.”

Robin kisses Chrom, and thinks of days full of happiness and ease to come.

* * *

 Robin blows through Thoron tome after Thoron tome, blasting his way through Validar’s- _his father’s-_ forces. Anger bubbles up inside of him, a storm raging in his head.

_Why wasn’t I good enough for you. Why was I always alone and isolated and lonely. Why didn’t you care enough!_

Robin comes face to face with _him_ and readies his tome. Validar stares at him, indifference shifting to disgust.

“I can’t believe you dirtied yourself with such trivial relationships. It’s unbecoming of the vessel for our savior.”

Robin falters. “Vessel?”

Validar’s face twists into a wicked grin. “Of course, Grima can’t be revived without a worthy vessel.”

Robin goes cold as his whole world comes carefully, slowly, delicately, crashing down.

* * *

 Both Tharja and Henry have soulmates, hell Robin’s one of them, so it really isn’t a Grimleal tradition to be free of them.

Robin’s different, however. He’s destined to bring the world to a horrible end, choking the life out it until there’s nothing left but ashes and empty husks.

Robin looks down at his hand, at Grima’s six eyes. Always watching.

He laughs then, small chuckles becoming hysterical, until tears begin to stream down his face and his laughs have become sobs.

He was right all along.

* * *

 Robin sits alone, staring out at the night sky, mulling over yet another argument with Chrom about Grima.

He knows what he has to do. Lucina knows what he has to do. Morgan knows what he has to do. Chrom, it seems, does not.

He hears footsteps behind him and sighs. He’s not in to mood to face Chrom yet.

He turns only to be greeted by Frederick. Even worse.

“Robin-“ Frederick starts, but Robin cuts him off before he can get any further.

“Frederick, how much do you love me?”

A grin breaks onto Robin’s face as Frederick fumbles for words, eventually landing on a dignified “What?”

“How much do you love me, care for me? Because it would really be a pity for that gold to disappear after Grima’s gone.”

Frederick’s still trying to throw a rebuttal together when Robin rises to his feet and walks away.

* * *

 “I can’t lose you”, Chrom chokes out, and the blue on Robin’s chest _aches._

“I know”, Robin whispers, peppering kisses along Chrom’s jaw. “I know.”

Chrom holds Robin tighter, as if trying to commit the feeling of Robin in his arms to memory.

Just as well, there’s not a lot of time left until they face Grima.

* * *

 Grima is a blank canvas, void of love, void of friendship, void of humanity. Robin’s mind recalls the image of him in front of the mirror on his very first night, all those years ago.

It feels like a lifetime ago. In a way, it is.

Robin strikes Grima down with one last decisive bolt, and he turns to dust before his very eyes.

Robin suddenly feels lightheaded.

He stumbles and falls, right into the Chrom’s arms.

“Robin”, Chrom chokes out and _oh no,_ Robin thinks, _he’s crying._

“‘M sorry. Had to do it”, Robin mumbles out.

“I know”, Chrom whispers, pulling Robin to his chest. “I know.”

“You can’t die. _You can’t”,_ Chrom continues. “You’re the wind at my back and the sword at my side.”

Robin laughs at that, though it’s only a wheeze. Robin’s not too sure how much more time Naga will grace him with.

“Still the cheesiest thing you’ve a ever said. You soppy sap.” _My soppy sap._

There’s a beat of silence, and Robin thanks Naga for giving him this time, he wants to say to goodbye properly.

“Chrom?” Robin can barely talk now, his voice wavering into silence.

“Yes, my sweet?”

“Kiss me? Just one more kiss.”

Chrom kisses him like always, like it’s the last time- because it really is this time, and Robin’s heart breaks at the thought as it stops beating.

* * *

 “You know, there are better places to take a nap than on the ground.”

A hand painted in orange and yellow surrounded by a vivid purple grabs his hand where a teal covers his palm and wrist, and pulls him to his feet and into a warm embrace.

“Welcome back, it’s over now.”

Robin let’s out a sob as Chrom kisses away his tears. His chest is filled with nothing but warmth.

He’s home.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I spent a lot of time while writing this fic debating whether or not Robin would be able to forge soulmarks or not. But I decided on this route because to me, this soulmate au emphasises the relationships you forge on your own, and how fate in ever changing. So I thought the difference between Robin's past, in which he was more than likely isolated and raised solely by Vaildar, and his time with the Shepherds, would lend itself to this story. If it were a more traditional soulmate au, I probably would have gone a different direction.  
> 
> 
> Anyway, I need to get back to my multichap fic, feel free to send an ask or anything my way on [tumblr](https://silquefaye.tumblr.com/) and as always, kudos, comments, and bookmarks are always appreciated!


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